


My Brother's Keeper

by PhoenixInnocence



Category: Naruto
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Death, Kidnapping, Light Bondage, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8319298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixInnocence/pseuds/PhoenixInnocence
Summary: On the anniversary of his brother’s murder, Sergeant Kakashi Hatake is called on to investigate the kidnapping of a business mogul’s youngest son. Still reeling from the loss of his little brother, Kakashi wants nothing more than to solve the case and move on. He never expected to fall in love and now he has every reason to stay… Until events take a disastrous turn for the worse.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Naruto. My story is Beta'd by MisatosPenPen and I also wrote this story for her.

October 2015

The wind whipped through the lush rolling hills, the neatly manicured grass swaying with the rocketing breeze giving an illusion of a rippling green sea. It was a peaceful, quiet place; befitting for a cemetery named Tranquil Rest Cemetery.   
It was a chilly start to the day, slightly less than normal for this time of year, but the day was expected to be a warm one. Kakashi stood there, shivering. He wanted to say it was completely from the chilly breeze, but that would be lying to himself and he was well past that stage in his life. He lived in a world of hard reality, having learned the hard way.   
“How long have you been here?” Minato asked, walking up behind Kakashi. Hand in hand with his wife Kushina, his other hand gripped a bouquet of a dozen beautiful tea roses; a solitary orange rose nestled in the middle of the bunch. He laid the bouquet of flowers in the vase to the left of the headstone. Kakashi’s own rested to the right, a bouquet of orange roses and blue forget-me-nots that were meant more for a wedding ceremony instead of destined for the cemetery.  
“Since five,” Kakashi said, without looking up.   
Kushina rested her hand against Kakashi’s shoulder. She held an air of quiet dignity even as her overwhelming grief contorted her beautiful face into a mask of graceful sorrow. Her eyes were downcast, staring at the jutting slab of polished black granite. She was a strong woman, formidable, yet likable and loved.   
Kakashi admired her.   
He didn’t know how she did it, day in and day out. Kushina made it seem effortless; like she did everything else in her life. Whether it was planning a charity function or organizing a political campaign dinner, she greeted each day with a steely resolve that was the envy of many. But behind the unrelenting woman beat a heart of gold; one that was crushed and broken. A heart that stopped truly beating five years ago. She lived, but always in the shadow of her greatest loss.  
Kakashi inhaled deeply and stared down at the headstone. It isn’t fair, he thought.   
“Will we see you tonight at dinner?” Minato asked.   
Kakashi respected Minato. The man had taken him in when he was ten and raised him like his own son and Kakashi treated him like a second father, even if he didn’t call him so. He was envious of him as well. Minato was stoic and proud; never one to show any emotion but fierce determination on the political platform or in the public eye. But when he was in the company of those few who knew him well, his mask slipped revealing a heartache as deep and as profound as his wife’s.   
The dreaded dinner, Kakashi thought. He’d missed the last two because it hurt too much. Celebrating a birthday for a boy who could grow no older was not how Kakashi wanted to spend his day. It was enough to turn him into an alcoholic. He’d tried of course; the last four years he’d made his way to the local bar and threw back shot after shot until he was thoroughly ensconced in the realm of drunken stupor. Then he’d walk the three blocks to his inner-city apartment, stumble through the front door and land in a heap on his worn leather sofa where he’d promptly pass out – last year he’d made it just past the front door before blacking out.   
The next day he woke to the fuss of EMT’s bending over him, checking his heart rate and sticking him with an IV. The neighbor from two doors down had stepped out of her apartment to walk her children to school when she’d noticed Kakashi face-down in his doorway, blood dripping the length of hallway from his door. She’d immediately hustled her children back to their apartment and rang 911. She’d thought he was dead.  
But Kakashi was alive, with a deep gash in his forearm and no memory of how he’d sustained it. Kushina and Minato had met him at the hospital, a look of deep concern coming from Kushina. The woman could not turn off her motherly instinct, even though Kakashi was too near her age to be called her ‘son’. But all the fuss and that look wasn’t enough to make Kakashi feel guilty about his drunken escapade; no, it was the look from Minato that truly got to him. A look of complete sadness and understanding; Kakashi felt like a heel, completely unworthy.   
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Kakashi said, determined to redeem himself from his past mistakes.  
Kushina knelt in front of the headstone, brushing off dirt, cut grass, and fallen leaves from the top and base. Her fingers traced the letters carved in the stone with graceful reverence.   
Kakashi watched with a heavy heart, his eyes reading the words her fingers traced as his heart thundered in his chest.

NARUTO UZUMAKI-NAMIKAZE  
BELOVED SON AND BROTHER  
OCT 10 1998 OCT 10 2010

Naruto was happiness and sunshine; slightly naïve with a heart of gold like his mother. He was sweet and made friends easily. He was a charmer and a heartbreaker even though he was only twelve. He’d wanted to be a doctor with Médecins Sans Frontières when he grew up. But more than that, Naruto was his little brother. And he’d been murdered. Worse; the killer was never caught.   
It rankled Kakashi to the core, as Naruto’s family and an ex-marine. Disillusioned with the detectives investigating his brother’s murder and their lack of progress, Kakashi joined the local police force; vowing to solve Naruto’s murder for himself.  
In the five years since, Kakashi managed to climb his way up the ranks. He’d just passed his sergeants exam in time to be promoted before the fifth anniversary. It should’ve been a celebratory moment; something he could look back on with pride. But he found himself disgusted. Because, also in five years’ time, he’d only managed to look at Naruto’s file twice. It sat in the top drawer of his desk, mocking him, a daily reminder of his broken promise. He felt himself no better than the detectives who began the case. He also feared he’d never find the son of a bitch who took his little brother from him.


	2. Chapter One

Saturday October 10

As predicted, the weather turned warmer. Some of the police station windows were cracked open, allowing the spicy scent of an autumn day to waft inside. Kakashi sat behind his desk, desperately trying to drown out his partner’s incessant nervous twitching. Today, it manifested itself in the offbeat tapping of pen against desk, a sound that always grated on Kakashi’s nerves. Usually, he’d dismiss it; but today his nerves were frayed.  
He shot a glare at his partner, who offered back a smile. The tapping ceased, leaving behind the everyday sounds of a squad room in full swing. Phones ringing, the fax machine buzzing, papers shuffling, a few curse words here and there, keyboard keys clacking away … it was music to Kakashi’s ears.  
“Hatake, Sarutobi, in my office now,” Tsunade barked through her open door.   
That was not music to Kakashi’s ears. He stood and popped his back, sighing in satisfaction, before winding his way through the maze of desks to their Captain’s office.  
Tsunade was seated behind her desk, scowling as she replaced the phone in its cradle. As soon as Kakashi and Asuma entered, her eyes snapped to them. “Close the door,” she ordered.  
Asuma moved first, closing the door swiftly.  
“There’s been a kidnapping,” she started, staring hard at both of them. “It’s the son of Fugaku Uchiha and I need the two of you on the ground running.”  
Kakashi cocked an eyebrow. The Uchihas were prominent and undeniably wealthy, the perfect target for kidnappers – definitely above their pay grade. “Forgive me,” Kakashi said, “but shouldn’t this be a job for the Feds?”  
It wasn’t that Kakashi was shirking his duty, but with so many variables and outcomes with a kidnapping — especially with the son of a prominent businessman — it was better to have the Fed’s take control. He preferred it that way.  
“They’re en route, but ETA is at least an hour and a half from the nearest satellite office,” Tsunade answered. “We need someone there now; there’s already been contact with the kidnappers.”  
“Any demand for ransom?”  
Tsunade shook her head. “No, this call was to get their attention. They’ll receive another at 2 p.m.”  
“That’s an hour from now,” Asuma said, checking his watch. “We’ll need to hurry,” he added to Kakashi.  
“The address is 1600 West 53rd Boulevard, Tower A, the penthouse suite,” Tsunade said. Her gaze lingered on Kakashi a moment longer than was necessary.  
.  
.   
1600 West 53rd was a modern apartment building of glass and metal, sitting directly in the heart of the city. From the moment you laid eyes on the structure, it captured your complete attention. From the four imposing cylindrically peaked towers arranged on a square lot, to the eight skywalks that connected the four towers to one another; it took up an entire city block. It loomed over the surrounding area with cold indifference and stood like an imposing beacon, dwarfing surrounding structures for miles. It spoke of immeasurable wealth, built by the wealthy elite for those of the top 2%. It screamed: look at me, while simultaneously warning you to keep your distance.   
The doorman greeted them with urgency, opening the express elevator that went straight into the penthouse suite. Kakashi and Asuma were greeted as soon as the elevator opened by a distraught woman. “Please, come in,” she said, beckoning them with urgency. “I’m Mikoto, Sasuke’s mother. Fugaku’s in the study waiting for the next phone call.”   
Her voice was soft and gentle even in her panic. Fear and anguish were a natural given, but it made itself known in the creases of her smooth, beautiful Asian face. Where the creases would detract from others beauty, it only served to enhance hers. She looked no older than thirty and Kakashi had difficulty believing this woman was the biological mother of a seventeen year-old.  
Fugaku Uchiha sat behind his desk, eyes staring unseeingly out the wall of windows. There was an instant impression of floating high above the city; in a non-secure, free-falling, dizzying kind of way. A feeling some men in Mr. Uchiha’s position loved, even delighted in. A feeling of absolute power over the masses; that their word was law and to disobey was a call for high treason. A position where they were unattainable, unreachable; like Gods and Goddesses of Mt. Olympus and Asgard. Only in this reality were they attainable, were they reachable; subjected to the same perils that mere mortals they ruled over were subjected too.  
“Fugaku.” Mikoto summoned his attention and he rotated his chair to face his visitors. He was nearly a stark contrast to his wife; whereas she was youthful and Asian, Fugaku looked more middle aged and more European. It wouldn’t be the first time a wealthy man took a younger, beautiful wife.  
Mr. Uchiha appeared calm in a semi-detached way. No resemblance to the god, the modern day Zeus as they called him, the demigod newspapers and magazines called brazen and intimidating. This man was subdued, struck down by a low blow. Someone has dared to mess with his child.  
“Sir, I’m Sergeant Hatake and this is detective Asuma Sarutobi.”  
The man stood and held his hand out to Kakashi. “Fugaku Uchiha,” he said, gripping Asuma’s hand in turn.   
“You’ve had a call already; were there any instructions you were to follow?” Kakashi asked.  
“They said to wait for the next call at 2 p.m.”  
“Was the caller male?” Asuma asked.  
“It was distorted, but it sounded male.”  
Kakashi nodded, taking out his notebook. “And did you speak with your son?”  
“No,” Fugaku said.   
Asuma grimaced.   
“Is that bad?” Fugaku asked. His mouth clenched, pupils dilating.  
“It’s preferable if contact is made with the victim,” Asuma said.   
“Preferable, but not expected,” Kakashi added. “We’d like to tap and trace your phones; with your permission. We also want permission to track Sasuke’s cell phone.”  
Fugaku didn’t even pause to think about it, “Of course, anything that’ll bring Sasuke home faster.”  
Kakashi gave a curt nod. “Does Sasuke drive a car?”  
“No.”  
“MetroPass?  
Fugaku nodded.  
“Is there a photo of Sasuke?” Kakashi asked.  
Fugaku picked up a framed photo on his desk. “This is the most recent photo we have. It’s his school picture.”  
Kakashi took the picture. He could see some resemblance to Fugaku, only heavily influenced by his mother’s Asian heritage. “Do you mind if we hold on to this for a while?”  
Fugaku nodded.  
The study door burst open and a frantic man nearly bowled Kakashi over in his fervor. “Is it true, chichi,” he demanded, “was Sasuke taken?”   
“Yes,” Fugaku said; a swift nod of the head for emphasis.   
A look of abject terror passed over the man’s face and he sagged into the nearest chair, instantly deflating. Kakashi took a moment to study him. Light complected with dark hair and dark eyes; he heavily resembled the Asian woman who answered the door.  
“I’m Sergeant Hatake,” Kakashi started.  
The man rounded on him. “What are you doing to find my brother?” he demanded, catching a second wind.   
There was a moment of silence on Kakashi and Asuma’s part. A quick glance to one another and they knew they’d been thinking the same thing. Their initial assessment of the man had been correct; he was a brother, but not to the Asian woman, but of the victim. Kakashi took another moment to let that fact sink in.  
In the silence that followed, the man rose swiftly from the chair and repeated his question, “What are you doing to find my otouto?”  
“Otouto?” Asuma asked.  
“My brother! What are you doing to find him? Not sitting around with your thumbs up your asses, I hope?”  
Kakashi’s lips twitched, instantly reminded of his own little brother. Naruto’s brash, bold words and the sheer loudness of him were easily conjured from memory. The smirk vanished before it was completely formed; his jaw locking against the memory of Naruto.  
“We’re doing everything possible,” Kakashi assured him.   
“And you’ll guarantee Sasuke will make it home.” It was a demand.   
The vein above Kakashi’s eye began to twitch. “We’ll try everything in our power to insure that happens,” he said, pleasantly. It wasn’t without effort however.  
The man scoffed.   
“Itachi,” Fugaku warned.  
“That’s not good enough, chichi,” Itachi said, rounding on his father.   
“There are no guarantees, Mr. Uchiha. But I promise I will do more than my best for Sasuke and your family,” Kakashi said.  
“We’ll see,” Itachi muttered. He left the room as abruptly as he’d entered; leaving an awkward silence in his wake.  
Kakashi’s lips twitched. He was familiar with this type of attitude; he had experience enough with it, including his own.   
Asuma shot Kakashi an inquiring look, mingled with a hint of surprise. Kakashi shrugged his shoulders, but deep down, he sympathized. He knew what Itachi was going through from the perspective of a brother. He’d felt the same way with Naruto.  
“I apologize for my son.” Fugaku said, resuming his seat. He held his forehead in his palm and sighed. “He and Sasuke are very close being only five years apart.”  
“There’s no need to apologize,” Kakashi said. “It’s a difficult time and stress can run high.” I’d be more concerned if Itachi wasn’t worried, he thought.  
Fugaku swallowed and nodded. “How many kidnappings have you worked before?” he asked.  
“Only two.”  
“And how did they turn out?”  
“We recovered one child alive, the other was not recovered.”  
“Is that so,” Fugaku said steadily.  
Kakashi felt an odd pull to defend himself. “The other child was abducted by their father who fled the country. We know where they are, that the child is indeed alive and well-cared for; better than they’d be if they were left with the mother. In my opinion, that case was a success.”  
“Despite it being a career failure,” Fugaku said.   
Kakashi nodded.  
.  
.  
The next thirty-five minutes passed by slowly as the techs invaded the Uchiha penthouse and set up their equipment. Mrs. Uchiha darted in and out of the study, repeatedly asking if anyone needed anything as the minutes ticked by; sandwiches, water, even offering Scotch. Itachi was immediately by her side and quietly escorted her from the room. Kakashi felt a pang in his chest and a drop in his stomach as she was led away gently, Itachi’s voice low and soothing. A jumble of images of Kushina in the same distress pushed their way to the front of his thoughts and it wasn’t without effort that he reigned them back in. Sasuke Uchiha was his priority at the moment.   
At the stroke of two on the grandfather clock in the hallway, the phone rang. Fugaku started, suddenly very nervous. Kakashi gave him the go ahead as he donned headphones to listen in.  
“Fugaku Uchiha,” he answered.  
“Mr. Uchiha,” the kidnapper said, his voice distorted and pitching octaves as he spoke. “Listen closely to my instructions or Sasuke will die. You will secure the sum of 1,000,000 dollars by midnight tonight; no excuses. I will contact you then with further instructions.”  
“Wait,” Fugaku demanded. “Let me talk to Sasuke.”  
“Midnight, Mr. Uchiha,” the kidnapper said and disconnected the call.  
Fugaku deflated in his chair. His hands were shaking as he rubbed his forehead.  
“You did great,” Asuma said, lifting the headphones from his head.  
“Were we able to trace the call?” Kakashi asked, turning towards the techs.  
“Yes,” one of the techs answered. “It came from a pay phone out in Greenwich Meadow. I’ll contact the local police and get them out there immediately.”  
“That’s it,” Fugaku said. “You’ve traced the call and you’ll find Sasuke?”  
“It’s hardly ever that easy, chichi,” Itachi said, entering the study and taking a seat. He’d been leaning against the doorjamb; quietly taking everything in.  
“Itachi, please,” Mikoto said, following her oldest son. “They’re doing everything they can to help.”  
Itachi scoffed.   
“Sometimes it is that simple,” Asuma said. “Depending on whom we’re dealing with.”  
“How many of these kidnappings result in a happy ending,” Itachi demanded. “How many are returned to their family after ransom has been paid? How many are never seen again?!”  
“Itachi,” Fugaku warned, rubbing his temples. “Now is not the time, boy.”  
Itachi either didn’t hear or ignored his father. Kakashi would wager on the latter. “I want answers! How many are even returned alive?!”  
“Itachi,” Mikoto wailed.   
Ignoring his mother, Itachi leveled a glare at Kakashi. “How many?”  
“It depends on the type of kidnapping you’re looking at. The statistics vary by type and area. The most common are child abductions committed by a family member. According to the last study I read, that makes up a quarter of the 800,000 children under the age of eighteen reported missing each year. About 50,000 are children abducted by nonfamily members. About a 100 children are the victims of what we consider “stereotypical” kidnappings: the child is held overnight, transported 50 miles or more, killed, ransomed, or held with the intent to keep the child permanently,” Kakashi said.*   
Itachi didn’t flinch.   
“But you already know the statistics,” Kakashi said, a rare smile forming on his lips. In the forty minutes that Kakashi had known Itachi Uchiha, he’d already formed an opinion of him. He didn’t strike him as a man to do anything half-assed.   
“I’ve read the 1999 National Study. It also says that the first three hours are critical,” Itachi said. “Over 76% of abducted children are murdered within that small window of time.”  
“The recovery rate of a missing child is 97%,” Asuma said. “The statistics are good.”  
“Statistics are just numbers. Sasuke is human, the kidnapper is human … we’re dealing with people and people are unpredictable!” Itachi said.  
“Half the time, yes, but they’re also not very imaginative,” Kakashi said. “You need to let us do our job. It’s the best thing you could do for Sasuke. Can you get the full ransom amount, Mr. Uchiha?” Kakashi asked Fugaku.  
“It won’t be a problem. I have half the amount on hand; the other half I’ll withdraw from the bank.”  
“Let’s do that immediately. Detective Sarutobi will escort you.”   
Fugaku rose, taking a moment to stare out the window with unseeing eyes. Mikoto rested her hand on his arm. He gave her a weak smile, covering her hand with his own. She nuzzled into the back of his hand, whispering, “It’ll be okay.”  
“Of course it will. Sasuke is our son, after all.” Fugaku gave her a quick kiss before he left, Asuma close behind.  
Mikoto waited until she heard the elevator ding before choking out a sob.   
“Haha,” Itachi said, embracing his mother.  
“You’re a good son, Itachi. I’ll be fine,” she said, pulling away. She offered Kakashi a watery smile. “We’ll have Sasuke home soon enough, I’m sure of it.”  
Kakashi only wished he could feel as confident. One million dollars was a staggering amount, the largest he’d ever known to be demanded. The kidnapper knew with whom they were dealing, that the Uchihas would have no problem procuring the hefty sum. He liked the bumbling idiot kidnappers better; they were less methodical and prone to making mistakes that got them caught.  
Kakashi’s phone rang, startling both Itachi and Mikoto. “Hatake,” he answered. “I see … any surveillance videos? How long will that take? Hmm … Keep me informed.” He took a deep breath, “That was the Greenwich Police. CSU is processing the phone booth and detectives are reviewing any surveillance footage from the last hour.”  
He didn’t want to say that the prospects looked dim, that there were over a dozen prints from the phone booth and none of the security camera’s faced the payphone. It was looking like the kidnapper had seemingly disappeared without a trace.   
There was a soft buzzing sound that filled the room, followed by a crackling voice to Kakashi’s left. He turned to look at the intercom box as the doorman spoke. “Mrs. Uchiha, the FBI has arrived.”  
“The FBI,” Itachi said, turning to his mother. “You contacted the Feds?”   
“Of course I did,” Mikoto said. She pressed the intercom button. “Send them up immediately, Guy.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” Guy said.   
“You called the Feds,” Itachi started again. “Does chichi know this?”  
“Yes, ‘Tachi, he knows. We agreed that it was best for Sasuke.”  
“I don’t like it. What if the kidnapper—”  
“Itachi, please,” Mikoto said.  
“What will they do to Sasuke?” Itachi asked louder.  
Mikoto’s eyes glistened with renewed tears. “I don’t want to take chances that I don’t have to. Excuse me,” she said and greeted the two FBI agents, “Mikoto Uchiha.”  
“Ma’am, SSA Ibiki Morino; this is SSA Anko Mitirashi.”  
“Has anything new developed since we were contacted last?” Anko asked, turning towards Kakashi and raising an eyebrow.  
“Sergeant Hatake with KPD,” he said, offering his hand in turn. “The kidnapper phoned promptly at 2 p.m. with their demands. They demanded $1,000,000 in ransom and will phone again at midnight with further instructions. We were able to trace the call to a phone booth in Greenwich Meadow. CSU is processing now. They’ll let us know what they find.”  
“Has contact been made with Sasuke?” Ibiki asked.  
“None, just the ransom demand.”  
“Where is Mr. Uchiha?” Anko asked.  
“He’s at the bank,” Mikoto said, fiddling with her pointer finger in nervousness.   
“You intend to pay the ransom,” Anko said.  
“Of course,” Itachi said. “Why wouldn’t we pay to have Sasuke back?”  
“No need to get angry, sir,” Ibiki said.  
“I’m not angry,” he said, looking anything but. “Haha, has anyone talked to Oji yet?”  
Mikoto gasped. “NO!” she exclaimed. “Oh, how could I forget?”  
“Oji?” Ibiki questioned.  
Itachi rolled his eyes. Kakashi chuckled silently. It was such an immature response, but in his opinion, fitting of the situation. “Oji, means uncle,” Itachi said. “I’ll let uncle Madara know. Has dad talked to uncle Izuna?”  
“I don’t think Izuna knows. Oh, how could I forget to tell them?” Mikoto said.  
“I’ll let them know, as well as Shisui.” Itachi left, passing Ibiki and Anko without acknowledgement.  
“Is he always like that?” Anko asked.  
“Itachi can be intense at times, but he’s really a gentle boy. Sasuke’s his otouto, his little brother, and they’re really close.”  
“Who is Shisui?” Kakashi asked.  
“Shisui is my oi, my nephew. Madara and Izuna are my brothers-in-law. Shisui is Izuna’s son.”  
“How close-knit is your family?” Ibiki asked.  
“They live with us; except for Shisui. Madara is a shut–in; he’s been that way since Obito…” Mikoto paused, taking a shaky breath.  
“Who is Obito?” Anko questioned.  
“Madara’s son; he passed away a few years ago.”  
“Accident?” Ibiki asked.  
“Yes,” Mikoto said, sitting down. “It was stupid, really. He was drunk and high; took a walk off a 6-story building.”  
Kakashi winced, recalling the story from the papers. It was a tragic end, but helped raise awareness to the dangers of illegal drugs and excessive drinking. It was a message that resonated within the community: drug related incidents were down by 20%, alcohol related incidents reduced by 35%.   
“Madara hasn’t been the same since,” Mikoto finished.   
“Tell us more about Itachi,” Ibiki said. “You said he and Sasuke are close? Have they always been that way?”  
“They’re like any other siblings, I suppose,” Mikoto said. “They have their ups and downs, but they’ve always been close. Sasuke’s planning on attending the same university Itachi did. He’s just completed his application for early admission.”  
“He’s a senior?”  
“Yes, at Pennwood Heights.”  
“Good grades? Well liked?” Anko asked.  
“Yes, Sasuke is a straight A student. He’s looking at being Valedictorian. He’s popular, especially among the Lilac Heights students.”  
“Lilac Heights? I thought you said he attended Pennwood Heights?”  
“Lilac Heights is an all-female academy; Pennwood Heights is all-male. They’re sibling schools,” Kakashi said.  
“I see,” Ibiki said.  
There was a moment of silence, the front door opening and closing. Fugaku entered the study, noting the FBI agents who introduced themselves.   
“You’ve the full amount?” Anko asked, immediately.  
“Yes,” Fugaku agreed. “And I fully intend to pay, non-negotiable. Do whatever you have to; I don’t care about the money. They could have it all, for all I care. I only want my son back.”  
“We’ll need to plan our best recourse, then. We want this to go as smoothly as possible,” Ibiki said.  
“We’ll be going then,” Kakashi said.  
“You’re not staying?” Mikoto asked.  
“You’re in good hands, ma’am,” Ibiki injected.  
Kakashi sighed softly. “It’s a joint investigation, but I see no reason the Feds shouldn’t run point on this. They really do have more experience in a kidnapping then we do and honestly, they’ve trained more for this. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands; and so is Sasuke.”  
Mikoto looked down and took a deep breath. “I suppose you’re right,” she said.   
It sounded weak to Kakashi and he immediately regretted the decision to leave; no matter how much he desperately wanted to distance himself from this case. He should’ve known better, but it wasn’t enough to change his mind. This case was hitting too close to home and the memory of Naruto, especially on his birthday, was a nagging itch that was begging to be itched with alcohol. Kakashi took a deep breath, “We’ll be back in the morning to check on how things went.”   
“Thank you,” she said, as softly as a kiss from an angel.  
Kakashi gave a nod and shook Fugaku’s hand. “We’ll see ourselves out,” he said, motioning for Asuma to follow him.   
“So, you’re leaving,” Itachi said, stalling them at the elevator. “I thought you said you’d do your best for Sasuke? All I see is you slinking away as soon as the Feds arrive. How cowardly.”  
“We’re not slinking away,” Kakashi said. “We’ll be back in the morning to follow up.”  
“And how is that helping Sasuke,” Itachi demanded. “You don’t give a damn about him, do you? He’s just another spoiled rich kid getting what he deserves, right?”  
“Wrong,” Kakashi said. “If you’d stop being so defensive, you’d see that. Your family’s wealth means nothing to me. If Sasuke’s a spoiled brat, that means nothing to me. No child, no matter their station in life, deserves to be taken from their family who loves them in demand for money. Now, I am making the decision as to what is best for Sasuke in this moment and the two agents standing in your father’s study are the best for Sasuke. Our resources are negligible compared to theirs, they’ve completed training courses for just such this occasion, and have been extensively trained in the art of negotiation—should it come to that in the end.”  
Itachi’s jaw was working furiously, it looked painful. “If the FBI is the best, why does it feel like you’re abandoning Sasuke?” he asked, softly.  
“I’m not abandoning anyone. We’ll be back tomorrow morning.” Kakashi pulled out his wallet and retrieved his business card. He grabbed his pen from an inside jacket pocket and scribbled his personal number on the back. “Here,” he said, offering the card to Itachi. “Call for anything.”  
Itachi took the offered card, staring at the line of numbers sloppily written. He smirked for a moment, sarcasm getting the better of him in that moment. “You have shitty handwriting.”  
“I don’t need flowery and graceful penmanship to be a cop,” Kakashi countered.  
“It should at least be legible. Is that supposed to be a six or a zero?” Itachi asked, nose wrinkling with confusion.   
“There are no zeros in my phone number. It’s perfectly legible, so stop being an ass.”  
Itachi chuckled. “What good is it if I can’t give the fuzz a hard time?”  
“It’s all fun and games, but never forget it’s the fuzz who take the call when things go wrong,” Kakashi said, boarding the elevator.  
Itachi sobered immediately. “I’m not likely to forget something like that,” he said, as the elevator door closed on Asuma and Kakashi.

 

*Information used from the 1999 study for The National Center for Missing & Exploited Children®


	3. Chapter Two

The sun warmed Kakashi’s face as they exited the apartment building, causing him to shiver. The temperature of the apartment hadn’t been cold, but the atmosphere inside had been chilly. It was no wonder he was shivering.   
“Do you really want to walk away right now?” Asuma asked.  
Kakashi slowed. “Does it feel like I’m walking away?”  
“Honestly, it looks like you can’t get away from this case fast enough.”  
Kakashi took a deep breath and turned back towards the apartment building, squinting against the afternoon sun’s reflection off the glass as he looked at the Uchiha’s penthouse. If he was honest with himself—and he was making it a point to be as brutally honest as possible these days—he didn’t want to be there. Maybe it was just the day; it was exactly five years since Naruto died, but Kakashi couldn’t shake the feeling that things were going to end badly if he stuck around. “Maybe you’re right,” Kakashi said.   
Asuma frowned. “Are you hitting the bar tonight?”  
“No,” Kakashi said. “I’m going to do the proper thing tonight and have dinner with the family.”  
Asuma nodded. “Well, if you change your mind, give me a call.”  
“I won’t change my mind, but—” Kakashi shrugged his shoulders, not completely disregarding the offer for a drink. If dinner was a bust, he might just need that drink to lift his spirits. Jack Daniels always dulled the pain.  
.  
.  
Kakashi studied himself in the rearview mirror, silently bolstering himself just to open the car door. He was regretting turning Asuma down, feeling the need for a stiff drink like a fire in his blood. His throat burned for the taste of whiskey. The urge was strong just to turn the car back on and leave.   
The passenger door opened, Minato slipping into the seat. He leaned over and pulled the keys from the ignition, palming them. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “I know this is probably the last place you want to be right now—heaven knows I’d rather not be here either. But it means everything to us that you showed up. It means even more that you’re giving Kushina one night where she doesn’t have to worry about you.”  
“She shouldn’t worry; I’m an adult now.”  
“You know what I mean. She worries about the drinking—”  
“I’ve haven’t touched a drop in a year—”  
“And about your job.”  
“Kushina doesn’t have to worry about my job.”  
“I worry about your job,” Minato said. “I’ve always worried. It’s a completely different thing, enlisting and being deployed. But it’s also not a good time to be a cop.”  
“When has it ever been a good time? It’s what I want to do, I like doing it,” Kakashi said.  
“I know. I know,” Minato said.   
Kakashi looked straight ahead, down the street at the row of cars parked in front of him. It was always a relatively quiet neighborhood, with relatively quiet neighbors. This was the neighborhood Kakashi had called home for ten years. Minato and Kushina took him in after his father, a friend of their family, committed suicide. They treated him like their own son and never stopped, even after Naruto—their natural son—was born.   
“There was something that I wanted to mention before you go inside.”  
“I won’t drink anything tonight, so you don’t have to worry—”   
“I’m not worried about that. It’s Kushina…” Minato said.  
Kakashi thought Minato seemed unnaturally nervous; it set the hairs on the back of his neck on end. “What’s wrong?” he asked, feeling a twinge of apprehension in his gut.   
“She’s been off all day; ever since we returned from visiting Naruto. It’s like she’s checked out emotionally and that’s never happened before.”  
“What do you mean ‘checked out’?”  
“Distracted. I talk to her, but she doesn’t seem to hear me. I can’t rouse her attention for nothing. She’s worrying me today.” Minato put his hand to his forehead and rubbed, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “You’ll see what I mean soon enough. Ready to go in?”  
Kakashi gave Minato a look that asked: Do I really have too? Minato laughed and clapped him on his shoulder.   
“Believe me; if I thought dinner didn’t help, I wouldn’t make you. I never want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But, it really does help. Being together and just remembering the good times; it comforts us. And maybe it could help you, too.”  
“I don’t need help,” Kakashi said, opening his door and exiting.  
Minato sighed and followed, his hand coming up around Kakashi’s shoulder as they walked up the garden path.  
Kakashi took a deep breath as soon as he entered the house, enjoying the scent of lilacs in the foyer. It was familiar, it was home; it was splashed around the bathroom of his apartment and always drew strange comments from visitors.   
Kakashi entered the kitchen, Kushina sitting at the table and staring off into space; preoccupied with her thoughts. She looked up momentarily, staring through Kakashi, but not seeming to see him. He now knew what Minato meant and it was slightly alarming.   
“Kushina,” Kakashi said, softly, coming up to her and kissing her temple.  
She seemed to regain herself momentarily and smiled, before her eyes glazed over again and she was once again to her thoughts.  
He gave Minato a look and shrugged his shoulders, worried as hell.   
“Let’s check out the barbeque and get dinner started. We’re dining on the back patio tonight.”  
“Kushina’s not making dinner?” Kakashi asked, leading the way outside.  
“Do you really trust her to make anything at the moment?” Minato whispered.   
Kakashi looked back at Kushina, noting the preoccupation again, and nodded. “It’s probably best, wouldn’t want to have to call the fire department. I like this house too much.”  
Minato smiled and started up the grill.  
A half hour later, they were seated around the table, enjoying dinner under the stars. The night was warmer than the day had started and it was comfortably quiet. Kakashi was slightly surprised that they weren’t eating any of Naruto’s favorite foods; he’d thought for sure they’d be feasting on ramen. He and Minato talked and laughed, something they’d not done for a few years, and Kakashi regretted that now.   
Kushina was unusually quiet and barely eating. It looked like she didn’t know they were having dinner, that there was even food in front of her. Minato touched her on the arm and she stirred, blinking into her surroundings. She gave Minato and Kakashi a smile, looked at her plate of food and once again slipped into distraction.  
Minato shook his head.  
“Let me help you clean up,” Kakashi offered. He rolled up his sleeves and carried the dishes inside. Minato wrapped Kushina’s plate for later, the food barely touched. “Will you let me know if Kushina continues to act this way?” he asked, placing the dirty dishes in the dish washer.   
“I’m hoping she snaps out of it soon and tells me what’s going on in that head of hers. She’s never done this before.”  
“When you find out?”  
“Sure, sure. I’ll let you know.”  
Kushina walked inside, stopping in the doorway and leaning against the doorjamb. She smiled again, seeming herself. “Have I ever told you how amazing a big brother you are?”  
“Uh, sure,” Kakashi said, not recalling anytime in particular Kushina had ever said that too him. But he knew it was true. He’d loved Naruto like his own brother and for all intents and purposes, Naruto was his little brother.  
Kushina smiled again and wandered away. Kakashi raised an eyebrow toward Minato, who shrugged and shook his head. “Could she be drunk?” Kakashi whispered.  
“All day? She hasn’t been alone long enough to drink a glass of wine. No, it must be something else.”  
“Is it possible she’s on something? Maybe she’s popping pills?” Kakashi thought that was very unlikely.   
“Do you think …?”  
Kakashi shook his head. “Not really, but something is going on.”  
“I’ll talk to her tonight. I’ll get her to talk to me and if I can’t …” Minato let the thought drop, worried that he might have to admit his wife to a psychiatric ward if this continued. “I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know.”   
Kakashi nodded, closing the door to the dish washer and hitting the cycle button.   
“Be safe,” Minato said, following him to the door.  
“I will,” Kakashi promised and slipped into his car, heading for home. He sent a text to Asuma saying he wasn’t going to join him for a drink tonight. He didn’t feel he needed too. Minato had been correct, dinner had made him feel better and it was a relief not to be confronted by a meal of Naruto’s favorites.   
He stood before his front door, looking for his apartment key. The neighbor from two doors up jerked her door open and looked out, staring at Kakashi in judgment. He gave her a smile and waved, opening his door hurriedly and entering. She never forgave him for traumatizing herself or causing her kids to miss a day of school.  
Kakashi sighed and leaned against his door, his apartment dark and quiet. Not that it shouldn’t be; he was single. But he did miss having someone to come home to. He walked through his apartment, stripping as he went, his thoughts on his last boyfriend.   
They’d met while deployed. Stationed in the same unit; they’d kept quiet about their relationship lest they be separated. They’d spent every leave together and spent every night of their deployments together; until their unit was struck by a roadside bomb on their way back into camp. Kakashi was hit by shrapnel and near death’s door, but he’d managed to live. His boyfriend had not been so lucky. It was a whole month before Kakashi had learned the truth. He’d sunk himself into physical therapy just to ward off the thoughts of his lost love; the man he was planning to marry after their last deployment. And there had been Naruto, a ray of sunshine during those dark days.  
Kakashi stepped in to his shower, breathing in the scent of lilac and immediately reminded of Kushina and her strange behavior at dinner. She could be as spacy as Naruto had been, but this was different. Even in her spaciness she could switch to being the most attentive person in the world at a moment’s notice. Naruto had called it her Mom-mode and that he didn’t have that yet because he wasn’t a dad. Kakashi had laughed when he’d said that, imagining Naruto as a father. He’d have been good at it, Kakashi was sure of it.   
He turned off the water and grabbed a towel. He sat at the end of his bed and rubbed at his dripping hair, the short strands sticking up at odd angles and giving him a shaggy look … a look that he found oddly pleasing. He closed his eyes and flopped back on his bed, his mind devoid of any thought at the moment.   
It was something that Kakashi prided himself on, being able to shut out everything and just relax. It came in handy some nights, like tonight in particular, when he didn’t want to think of another missing boy. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He grabbed some pajama pants from his dresser and donned them, walking over to his sofa and turning the T.V. on. He wasn’t a huge T.V. person, but he did enjoy his football. He was looking forward to the game on Monday.  
After an hour of watching nothing, Kakashi retired to bed, sinking into his mattress and shutting down. He dreamed of Naruto, the day he woke up in the hospital from a coma. He was sore and Naruto was being too loud for his sensitive ears.  
“I brought you flowers. Orange ones! The lady at the gift shop downstairs called them tea roses! I know you’ll like them!!”  
Kakashi groaned. “Not so loud.”  
“Oh!” Naruto said, startled. His voice fell to a whisper as he laughed. “Sorry.”  
“S’kay,” Kakashi sighed and opened his eyes. He tried to sit up, but thought better of it.  
“Where’s mom and dad?”  
“They went to eat,” Naruto whispered.  
Kakashi groaned again, in pain from his head to his toes. “Why aren’t you with them?”  
The look in Naruto’s eyes made Kakashi’s gaze drop. “Do you want me to go?”  
“No,” Kakashi sighed. He tried to smile, but even that caused pain. “I just wondered how you could pass up food.”  
Naruto laughed. “That’s what mum said! But I didn’t want to leave you.”  
He sat down on the end of Kakashi’s bed, hands in his lap. “I’m glad you’re awake,” Naruto said. He bit his lip. “Mum was sad because you were sleeping a lot. I told her you always sleep late. But she only cried. Dad said to be quiet, but I didn’t wanna. You always wake up for me. See, I was right! You woke up!” Naruto laughed again.   
Kakashi smiled at his ten year-old little brother—who didn’t quite get it.  
“Can I push the button for the nurse?” Naruto asked. “They’ll be happy you’re awake too!”  
Kakashi nodded and Naruto pressed the call button.   
The nurse came bustling in with a frown on her face; like this hadn’t been the first time Naruto had pushed that button. Seeing that Kakashi was awake, she sent for the doctor immediately.   
“I’ll have you know,” the nurse said, checking his vitals, “that your brother has barely left your side since he got here. He’s been a diligent little helper.”  
“He’s the best little brother I could ever ask for,” Kakashi said.  
The doctor entered and looked him over, declaring him in better health than he had been. There was a stern look on his face.   
“Why don’t I take you down to the food court and get you some ice cream. Call it a reward for being such a wonderful little helper,” the nurse said. “It’s time for my break and afterwards, I can show you how to use a stethoscope.”  
“Cool!” Naruto exclaimed and followed the nurse out while the doctor had a serious talk with Kakashi about his injuries.  
Minato and Kushina returned shortly after Naruto left, while the doctor was still informing Kakashi of his multiple injuries and what it would take to get him back to his pre-injury state.  
Kakashi tried to follow what the doctor was telling him. He’d been unconscious for a month. He’d need physical therapy to build up the muscle that had begun to atrophy. The deep lacerations from shrapnel were already beginning to heal, but the doctors feared for his left eye and referred him to the best Ophthalmologist in the state. They were optimistic of his overall recovery; now that he’d woken up.  
Naruto returned an hour later with a stethoscope of his own, bragging that he knew how to take a person’s blood pressure. He had to show Kakashi how it was done, using their dad as a guinea pig since Kakashi’s own arms were too heavily bandaged. Kushina smiled with pride as Naruto squeezed the bulb of the pressure cuff and turned the valve slowly to release the pressure, listening for the thump of Minato’s heartbeat to start and fade out. “120/90,” Naruto exclaimed. “You’re normal!” And he laughed, because the thought of his parents being normal was funny.  
Naruto had visited every day and every day the nurses would show him something new, all of which he shared with Kakashi. “I want to be a doctor, ‘Kashi! Do you think I can do it?”  
“Why wouldn’t you?” Kakashi asked. “You’d make a fine doctor.”  
“Really?” Naruto looked completely awed by the thought.  
“Really,” Kakashi said, laughing.   
Naruto had sung all day that he was going to be a doctor and save soldier’s lives when he grew up.

Kakashi started at the sound of his phone. Blinking sleep from his eyes and thoughts of Naruto, he focused on his clock as it flashed 12:36 before reaching for his mobile.  
“Hatake,” he mumbled.  
“The FBI fucked everything up!” Itachi screamed at him.   
Kakashi sat up in bed and turned on his lamp, wide awake.  
“I can’t believe you left these incompetent fools in charge of finding Sasuke,” Itachi continued. “Kuso*! How could you just leave something this important to hacks?! I can’t believe that the FBI employs such incompetent idiots. Do you even have to graduate high school to join the Bureau these days, or do they let anyone in? One would think that you’d need a higher level of competence and common sense to work for the Federal Government! This is entirely your fault! How are you going to fix this, yarou*?”   
“Itachi,” Kakashi said, out of bed and quickly dressing. “What’s happened?”  
“I’ve been trying to tell you that! Weren’t you listening?”  
“No, I stopped listening after the second ‘incompetent’. Of course I was listening! I’ve heard you raging, but you’ve left out everything important. ”  
“The FBI screwing up isn’t important enough for you?” Itachi demanded.  
“I need specific details. Now, tell me what’s happened,” Kakashi said, grabbing his car keys and slipping into his shoes.  
“I’ll tell you when you get here.”  
“No, you’ll tell me now!”  
“Has anyone ever told you you’re an ass?” Itachi asked.  
“I’m well aware of that. Details, Uchiha; leave nothing out.”  
“Fine.” Itachi took a calming breath. “The kidnapper called back at midnight like he promised. The demand was that we divide the ransom into quarters and gave us the first location. Chichi was told to take the money to the Great Bay Bridge and drop it into the river, then leave. Everything was fine up to that point. The incompetent fools insisted on adding dye packs or a tracker. Chichi refused.”  
“Go on,” Kakashi urged, when Itachi paused.  
“They didn’t like that, but it’s not up to them. We don’t care about the money. We only want Sasuke back,” Itachi said.  
“So Fugaku left for the dead drop?” Kakashi prodded.  
“Dead drop?” Itachi asked. His voice waived.   
“Cop terminology,” Kakashi said.   
“Ah,” Itachi said, sounding shaken. “Chichi left with the money; another thing those morons didn’t like. Do you know that they’d rather us not pay the ransom? Why would they insist that? And they didn’t want Chichi to go alone, they insisted that he be tailed or carry a tracking device of his own. Why are they making this more complicated than it has to be?”  
“Itachi,” Kakashi said. “Stay on topic here. What happened at the drop?”  
“Right,” Itachi said, taking a deep breath. “Nothing happened there; Chichi dropped the bag of money into the river and returned home.”  
“Everything went smoothly then?”  
“Yes, but—” Itachi said. His next words were barely above a whisper. “The rest of the money’s gone.”  
Kakashi’s mind went blank, working on autopilot as he drove to the Uchiha’s apartment. Never, had he ever heard of ransom money disappearing. “Explain—what do you mean by ‘gone’?”  
“Stolen! Someone’s taken it!” Itachi screamed. “$750,000, just gone and no clue who or how it was done. Why would someone do this? Why would they take money that doesn’t belong to them? Don’t they realize that we need that money for Sasuke?”  
Kakashi pulled up outside the apartment and threw himself out of his car, flashing his badge as he rushed past the doorman and nearly tackling him when he didn’t move fast enough. The man was forced to jog to catch up to Kakashi and open the express elevator. Kakashi cut across Itachi’s second tirade, “I’m hanging up now. I’m in the elevator.”  
Itachi met Kakashi as he was exiting. Kakashi stopped short, the familiar sight of personal anguish slicing through his heart. It was the same look Kushina had moments after she was told that her son was never coming home. Itachi was defeated. He’d given up hope.  
“Did the kidnapper say when the next phone call would be?” Kakashi asked.  
“2 a.m.,” Itachi said. “What will he do when he finds out there’s no more money? We don’t have that much just lying around. We could go to the bank as soon as they opened, but what if the kidnapper won’t wait? Do we even tell him that the money is gone? Would he wait if we did? Would he take it out on Sasuke if he wouldn’t? Would he kill—” Itachi choked on the words, a small fluttering of tears gathering in his eyes.  
Kakashi laid his hands on Itachi’s shoulders, soothing. “Don’t give up, Itachi. Sasuke needs you to be strong right now.”  
Itachi nodded and wiped at his eyes.  
“We good?” Kakashi asked. “Now, show me where you were keeping the money.”  
“Chichi’s safe,” Itachi said.   
Kakashi was directed to the family room, the door to a hidden floor safe open and jewelry strewn across the floor. It was a small room belying the actual size of the apartment, with an intricate shrine taking up one wall. It held Kakashi’s attention for a moment, admiring the sheer beauty of it. “Has CSU dusted for prints?”  
“I—I don’t know.”  
“Get your father and SSA Marino,” Kakashi ordered, taking out his cell. “Asuma, I’m sorry to call so late, but there’s been a development in the Uchiha kidnapping. It’s a shitstorm. How soon can you get here? … I’ll be here,” Kakashi said, nodding. He hung up.  
Kakashi noted the small relief that passed over Fugaku when he entered the family room and spotted him. The Uchihas no longer had faith in the FBI.  
“What are you doing here? We have everything under control,” Ibiki said, following Fugaku into the room.  
“I got a call about an interesting development in the case. I’m curious, were you going to bother to give me a call or wait until I showed up in the morning?”  
“As I said, we have everything under control,” Ibiki said.  
“Why hasn’t the safe been dusted? Where are the tech’s that were here earlier? Did you even trace the last phone call?”  
“The safe hasn’t been dusted because that would be a waste of resources. There’s no way a stranger gained access to an apartment crawling with people—FBI included—and just happened across a floor safe, let alone knowing the passcode. No, someone in the family took the money.”  
“Kusoyarou*!!”   
“Itachi!!” Fugaku reprimanded.  
Kakashi nodded, following the logic. “That doesn’t explain the lack of techs? Where are they?”  
“We sent them packing.”  
“Why?”  
“Because we did a little more digging than your cursory inquiry and have concluded that there was no kidnapping. The missing money proves that.”  
“So, I am to believe that you sent the techs away, didn’t bother to trace the next phone call, and didn’t bother to run any of this by me, all because you believe the family is faking a kidnapping? What the hell is wrong with you?” Kakashi demanded, seething with anger.  
“We didn’t bother contacting you because there was no need to,” Anko said, joining them. “You were going to check in in the morning, anyway. That was soon enough for us. We plan to pack up and leave as soon as we find who took the money. I’m sure there will be federal charges pending for falsely reporting a crime.”  
Kakashi felt his heart rate increase, he was beyond angry. Everything he’d seen from the family so far, the anguish and fear, indicated that the kidnapping was genuine. As for the missing money, he couldn’t be as sure. “And where do you suppose Sasuke is at the moment?”   
“Who knows?” Anko said, shrugging her shoulders. “Probably off to Aspen or wherever the hell the rich kids go to blow off the stress of their privileged lives.”  
Itachi stepped forward in anger, Fugaku thrusting out his arm to hold him back. “Anata wa meinu jigoku ni iku*!” Itachi yelled.   
“And that’s another thing,” Anko said, “they’re constantly talking in a different language. Speak English!”  
“I’ll give you English!” Itachi yelled. “Go to hell!! Get out!”  
“Not until we know who took the money,” Ibiki said.  
“I think it’s best that you leave,” Kakashi said, calmly.  
“Get OUT!!” Itachi demanded, straining against his father who held him in a bear hug.  
“Not until—”  
“The family has requested that you leave,” Tsunade said. Kakashi turned in surprise. His captain rarely left the station—besides to go home—so it was unusual at best to see her at a crime scene. “Unless you want to explain to your bosses why you were arrested for trespassing, I must insist that you leave immediately. We no longer need the assistance of the FBI.”  
“They’re wasting precious manpower that could be used towards investigating a real crime,” Ibiki said.  
“If that is the case, then it will be up to the DA to press charges. Now, as the family so nicely requested, get out,” Tsunade said. “Or I will have you arrested.”   
“I’ll be sure to talk to your DA real soon,” Ibiki said. He and Anko left, shaking their heads with a look of disgust on their faces.  
“We didn’t … we wouldn’t,” Itachi spat, still struggling against his father.  
“Calm down, boy!” Fugaku ordered. “They’re gone.”  
“But to … and to accuse … and Sasuke!”  
“I know, but you need to calm down,” Fugaku said, taking Itachi’s face between his hands and staring him down. “You’re rambling and incoherent; no use to anyone. Just be calm.”  
Itachi nodded and took a deep breath; once, twice, three times. His shoulders relaxed and Fugaku pulled him into a proper hug. The way the normally stoic man was clutching at his eldest son spoke volumes to Kakashi. Fugaku was nearly panicked and probably cherishing the fact that he still had one son within reach.  
“I’m sorry about bringing in Captain Tsunade without telling you,” Asuma whispered to Kakashi. “But you said it was a shitstorm and that’s a term you rarely use. I thought it wouldn’t hurt, considering the Uchihas’ social status. Sorry.”  
“Only, you’re not sorry,” Kakashi said, smirking when Asuma shrugged. “It’s fine.”  
“Ok,” Tsunade said. “Tell me what’s been going on here? Calmly,” she ordered when Itachi opened his mouth to speak.  
The phone rang; shrill in the suddenly quiet room.  
“Fuck,” Kakashi said, checking his watch and surprised to find it 2 a.m. already. “Put it on speaker.”  
Fugaku nodded, answering the phone, “Fugaku Uchiha.”  
“You did very well, Mr. Uchiha. You followed my instructions perfectly and your contribution to my pocket has been well received.”  
“When is the next drop?” Fugaku said.  
The kidnapper laughed. “You don’t have to pretend to have the money, Mr. Uchiha. I collected the remaining amount right out from under your noses. Consider your debt paid in full; you can have your son back tomorrow morning at 8. I’m sure the cops can track his cell phone to the location. Good night, Mr. Uchiha.” The phone disconnected.  
“That’s it?” Itachi asked. “He took the rest of the money?”  
Tsunade was on her phone, barking out orders, “I want CSU here immediately. I also want a reverse look-up of the last phone call placed to Uchihas’ number and start tracking Sasuke Uchiha’s cell phone. I want to know if it goes live before 8.”  
Itachi sank to the sofa, dumbfounded and shaking. “8 a.m. and we’ll have Sasuke back.” He looked at the clock and noted the time: 2:03.  
“Excuse me while I check on my wife,” Fugaku said. Asuma held out his hand, stalling.   
“Where’s she been all evening?” Asuma asked.  
“You can’t possibly think—” Itachi started.  
“No,” Kakashi said. “We don’t think Mikoto had anything to do with this. But we will need to know the movements of everyone tonight.”  
“What does it matter? The money means nothing and as long as we have Sasuke back, it’s pointless.”  
“What’s to stop the kidnapper from doing this again?” Tsunade said. “To your family or another’s? The best way to catch him is to figure out how he entered your apartment and gained access to your safe. You may think it’s over, but it’s just beginning.”  
“You’ll have our cooperation,” Fugaku agreed. “Now, I really need to check on Mikoto.”  
“I’ll go with you,” Asuma said. Fugaku paused momentarily before agreeing.  
Tsunade pulled out her ringing phone, following Fugaku and Asuma. Kakashi heard her barking more orders and winced; glad that he wasn’t on the receiving end of her verbal barrage.  
Kakashi closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache creeping up on him.   
“Haha was worrying herself sick,” Itachi said, quietly. “Chichi slipped a sleeping pill into her tea when she wasn’t looking. He didn’t want her to—”  
“I understand,” Kakashi said, taking a seat next to Itachi and pulling out a little notebook. “Let’s go through what happened after I left, up until you called me tonight.”   
“I’ve been shadowing Haha all night, trying to keep her calm and out of the way of those incompetent hacks. They had no patience, no compassion where she was concerned. I didn’t like that. She’s worried sick over Sasuke.” Itachi stopped and grabbed Kakashi’s hands in his, giving him a heartbreaking look. His notebook and pen fell without Kakashi perceiving it. Kakashi’s stomach fluttered, Itachi’s hands were soft and warm over his. “You can’t believe that Sasuke just ran off to Aspen. He wouldn’t do that; he wouldn’t worry Haha like that. He’s a good kid. He wouldn’t just disappear.”  
“Sasuke is intelligent, no?”  
Itachi withdrew his hands, looking and feeling betrayed. “You think Sasuke orchestrated this? I just told you he wouldn’t worry Haha like this!”  
Kakashi shook his head. “Whether I, myself, believe that Sasuke could or would do this is irrelevant. Questions need to be asked, every avenue explored. And since it was brought up by FBI agents, no less, it needs to be investigated; if for the simple fact of debunking it.”  
“But you don’t believe Sasuke is behind this?” Itachi asked.  
“I haven’t drawn a conclusion yet,” Kakashi said.  
“What is your gut telling you?” Itachi pressed, placing his warm hands over Kakashi’s again.  
“My gut isn’t always reliable, but it’s saying that Sasuke is a victim here. He’s gone missing and not of his own free will.”  
Itachi softened a little.  
“Now, tell me, who all was in the apartment tonight that you know of?”  
“Haha, Chichi, Oji—” Kakashi held up his hand, stopping Itachi.  
“Oji,” he said. “Uncle?”  
“Yes,” Itachi said, smirking slightly. “You were paying attention.”  
“That would be your uncle Madara, the shut–in?”  
Itachi nodded.  
“And your uncle Izuna?”  
“I’m not sure what time he left; for all I know, he could still be here.”  
Kakashi nodded, making a mental note that Izuna made an appearance after he’d left. “And your oi?”  
Itachi laughed and the effect it had on Kakashi was instantaneous. A face, lined with worry and anger and grief, was morphed into something ethereal and beautiful. Kakashi felt a stirring in his gut, listening to Itachi’s tinkling laugh. He always wondered how some people could laugh and make it sound like music.  
“I’m sorry,” Itachi said, catching his breath. “I don’t have an oi.” Seeing Kakashi’s confused look, Itachi clarified. “Oi means nephew.”  
“Right,” Kakashi said, nodding. “Shisui is the oi.”  
“Not my oi. Shisui is my itoko; my cousin.”  
Kakashi made another mental note to buy a Japanese-English dictionary before he returned home. He felt like he was going to need it.  
“Was Shisui here at any time tonight?” Kakashi asked.  
“No,” Itachi said. “He doesn’t like to come around the apartment much … not since he moved out.”  
Kakashi noted how Itachi’s hands retracted from his own and sat fidgeting in Itachi’s lap. He picked up his note pad and made a note to look into Shisui.  
“Was anyone else in the house that you know of?” Kakashi asked.  
“I don’t know,” Itachi said, shaking his head. “Just family and the morons with federal badges, I guess. Can I lodge a complaint against them?”  
Kakashi smirked. “Are there any staff that has access to the apartment?”  
Itachi frowned. “That’s very stereotypical of you,” he said. “Just because my family is wealthy doesn’t mean we employ staff. We are capable of doing things on our own.”  
“I meant no offense,” Kakashi said. “I just need to know who has access to the apartment and who doesn’t.”  
Itachi continued to frown. “Every member of the family has a key to the apartment; only Chichi, Haha, and Izuna have a key for the express elevator, besides the doormen. There are three of them and they switch off every 8 hours.”  
Kakashi made another note to talk to all three doormen.   
“The doormen can let any of us or our guests up, but it’s recorded. All deliveries, unexpected visitors, or anyone else wants to come up, they’ll take the normal elevator and come to the front door. There are two penthouse suites, but the other suite is unoccupied at the moment. We all have keys to the door—well, everyone but Shisui.”  
“Both of your uncles live here as well?”  
“Yes, it’s me, Sasuke, Chichi, Haha, Oji, and Izuna.”  
“What about the safe? Who has the passcode?”  
“Chichi, Haha, Oji, and Izuna.”  
“Not you or Sasuke?”   
“No. Chichi mostly keeps important documents in there, nothing either of us would want except when we needed our birth certificates.”   
“Was there anything missing from the safe?”  
“I wouldn’t know.”  
He paused when the CSU techs arrived and began to process the safe. Tsunade walked up to him, saying, “We’ve asked for the security tapes of both elevators. The techs were able to reverse-trace the call, but it came from another pay phone out in Lincoln’s Ferry. We’ve sent the local sheriffs out to process the scene.”  
“But if it was like the last pay phone, there will be nothing to find,” Kakashi said. “I want to speak with Mikoto and Fugaku.”  
“Asuma is interviewing them now,” Tsunade said.  
“Right,” Kakashi said. “I’ll talk with Madara then.”  
Itachi looked taken aback. “Is it necessary?” Itachi asked. “I mean he’s a shut–in, what could he possibly have to tell you?” Kakashi gave Itachi a questioning glance. “Right,” Itachi said, “police procedure. I guess I never realized how extensive an investigation could be.”  
“The paper work alone is horrendous,” Kakashi said laughingly, but his voice was tinged with real weariness.  
“I’ll show you to Oji’s room, but don’t be shocked if he doesn’t answer. We can’t always get him to answer to us and we’re family.”  
“Is he confined to the apartment as a whole or just to his room?”  
“He stays in his room and rarely ventures out into the apartment.”  
“Is he agoraphobic?”  
“I don’t think it’s that so much as deep depression. Losing Obito was hard for him. It was hard for all of us, really. It came out of nowhere,” Itachi said, knocking on Madara’s door. “Oji-chan, there’s a detective here that would like to speak with you.”  
Kakashi and Itachi waited a few seconds, listening. There was no sound from the other side of the door and Itachi knocked again. “Oji-chan, are you awake?”  
The door opened a crack, but no one answered. “That’s Oji’s way of saying you can go in,” Itachi said.  
“Thank you,” Kakashi said.   
It was dark as he entered, no lamplight pouring from a bedside table. His only luminous guide came from the window’s open curtain and the waning crescent moon. Madara sat on his bed, looking distinctly shaggy and in total contrast to his neat and tidy room. He had the look of a man that barely ate and rarely slept. Kakashi would venture a bet that he hadn’t slept well or cut his hair since before his son’s death.  
“You want to talk to me about Sasuke,” Madara said.  
Kakashi nodded, thought better of it in the limited lighting and said, “Yes.”  
“What do you want to know?”  
“When was the last time you saw him?” Kakashi started.  
Madara laughed and said, “Two weeks ago when he brought me supper.”  
“You don’t leave your room very often, then?”  
“I take a shower every day, does that count?”  
Kakashi frowned. “Do you know who would want to target your family?”  
“There are plenty of people who could be angry enough to kidnap a child. All it takes is planning, determination, and a bit of intelligence.”  
“Not common sense?” Kakashi asked.  
“Common sense would tell you not to kidnap a person,” Madara said. “And this kidnapper is lacking in any kind of common sense.”  
“This may be pointless, but do you know who was in and out of the apartment tonight. Did you see anything?”  
Madara shook his head. “I’ve only seen these four walls. As to who was in and out all day, I couldn’t say. There were a lot of voices, familiar and not-so-familiar.”  
“Are you concerned about Sasuke?”  
Madara stilled. Kakashi wished he could see his face clearly, to know what his exact expression was in that moment. But the moon was shining on him from the back, placing his face in shadow. “I love Sasuke. He reminds me a lot of Obito. And of Izuna, in our younger days.”  
Kakashi noted the sad lilt in Madara’s voice; a lilt that only parents who’d lost a child could speak. Kakashi felt his throat close with emotion, choking him. He felt Madara’s eyes on him, piercing him.  
“I wish I could help you,” Madara said. “But I can’t bring myself to leave my room. I don’t see the point of getting up and mingling with idiots and morons, pretending that my life is just fine when I know damn well that it’s never going to be the same. I don’t want their fake sympathy.”  
“What about your family,” Kakashi asked.  
“I don’t want to see their sympathy either.”  
“Because it’s too real?”  
Kakashi felt Madara’s piercing gaze again. “The struggle with grief is real and the road is long. And sometimes it hurts too damn much to be surrounded by the people who share your deepest grief. I think you can understand that.”  
Kakashi left Madara’s room itching for a shot of Jack Daniel’s. The peace he’d gained over dinner had evaporated, replaced by a hollow pit in his stomach. He felt the tell-tale pinpricks of tears and closed his eyes, reigning in that unwanted urge to cry. He also felt angry for setting himself up. He should have had Asuma interview Madara Uchiha. He should have known the parent of a dead child could see the scarlet letter of grief.

 

*Fuck   
*Bastard  
*fucking bastard   
*Go to hell you bitch!


End file.
